


Ebony

by rudbeckia



Series: Random Worlds [25]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, benarmie, sugardaddy Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Set a few weeks after the last fic in the series.Armitage has a business trip abroad and invites Ben to look after his house while he is away. They spend the evening getting to know each other a little more and Ben lets slip some of his worries about getting involved with Armitage.





	Ebony

Ben stopped in the curved driveway to look up at the double doors that sat closed atop a short flight of steps. He took out his phone and checked his location again. It was definitely the right house. With an excuse and an apology ready in his mouth, he went up the steps and pressed the brass button of the doorbell. He listened, but nothing happened. He tried the heavy brass knocker and immediately regretted it: he thought he must have disturbed half the street. After a few minutes of silence, Ben turned to go but the door clunked and creaked open behind him. 

“Ben!” Recognising the voice, Ben turned and smiled. Armitage stood back and held the door. “Come in. Sorry I took so long. I was up-upstairs trying to make the place look less like a mausoleum.”  
Ben raised his eyebrows as he took in the high ceiling, polished floor and pristine walls of the hallway. Opposite the door, a wide staircase flanked by ebony balustrades led up. Or, Ben smiled, _up-up._  
“Well then,” Armitage held out his hand. “Give me your bag and I will show you to your room. And mine.” Armitage looked away and his cheeks flared pink. “I mean you can have a tour of the house if you like. I didn’t mean to presume—“  
“Armitage, shut up.” Ben laughed as he spoke. “I know what you meant. Thank you for asking me to look after your place while you’re away.”  
“You won’t have to do much.” Armitage took Ben’s bag and almost dropped it. “What in the name of—”  
“I brought a few books and my laptop,” Ben explained. “Got a thesis to write. Can I use your wifi?”  
Armitage smiled and nodded. “Of course. Tour of the house, get you all set up with the wifi, dinner and an early night? Oh!” Armitage blushed again. “I only meant... Oh stop it. You’re leering at me.”

Ben followed Armitage all the way up the staircase and into a room that appeared to be bigger than the entire flat he shared. Armitage laughed when he said as much.  
“This would have been the nursery suite. It’s self contained: you have your own bedroom, living room, bathroom and a little study but you can use mine if it’s too cramped. I spent a lot of time here when I was younger. Keeping out of the way, mostly.”  
“So will I find any relics of your past here? You know, your old teddybears and stuff?” Ben looked around and did not see Armitage’s expression cloud. “Ooh, did you have a governess?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. No. There won’t be anything like that. After I went away to school my father had it all cleared out.”  
“Because you were too old for it?” asked Ben, stomach fluttering a warning at Armitage’s tone.  
“I suppose I must have been,” replied Armitage with a brittle cheerfulness in his voice. “I was eight.”

Ben slid his hand over Armitage’s when he took his bag and they both sat at the table in the study to set up Ben’s laptop. After that, Ben went to change into sweats. Armitage grinned at the laugh that bellowed out from the bedroom. Ben’s head appeared at the door.  
“I can’t believe you got a Darth Vader bed set for me.” He walked back into the living room and hugged Armitage. “It’s awesome!”

Armitage led Ben through the rest of the house. He pointed up and said there were a couple of servants’ rooms in the attic, accessed by a hidden staircase, that were used for storage now. There were two more guest bedrooms on the same floor as Ben’s room, both smaller and furnished with tastefully bland style. On the floor below was Armitage’s room, modern furniture and plain decor at odds with the grandeur of the house’s more public areas. Armitage pointed at another door, off to the right of the main staircase.  
“My father’s rooms. I don’t go in there even though he’s gone.”  
“Ah.” Ben bit his lip and tried desperately to think of what to say. “I’m, um, sorry for your loss.”  
“I’m not,” retorted Armitage. “I hated him. He was incompetent in his family life as well as in business. You know I was investigated over his death?”  
“Yes. That must have been awful for you,” said Ben, softly, hand light on Armitage’s back. “I was questioned about that night too. I guess they needed to confirm your story.”  
Armitage nodded. “Thank you for that,” he said, forcing a smile for a second or two. “If you couldn’t confirm where I’d been all night I’d’ve been in real trouble. They still don’t know for sure how he died.”

On the ground floor Armitage led Ben into the drawing room — an over-furnished, chintzy monstrosity of a room — then the formal dining room packed with dark mahogany and sparkling crystal, and the library. Down a narrower staircase Ben saw the kitchen, another dining room with a plain pine table and sensible crockery, and a tiny sitting room with a small bookcase, a large TV and a soft blue sofa.  
“My refuge,” said Armitage. “I like this room best of all. It used to be the housekeeper’s office. What would you like for dinner?”  
The sudden change of topic threw Ben and he stared at Armitage for a second, then he smiled.  
“I’d like to eat takeout straight from the containers in the fancy dining room.”

Armitage ordered food but the formal dining room was cold and uncomfortable. Instead they lounged in the snug little sitting room with plastic tubs crowding a wooden tray balanced across their laps, thighs pressed close and shoulders touching. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Ben to drape his arm across the back of the sofa and give Armitage inches more shoulder-space. It felt easy to accept a sample of Armitage’s lamb curry off Armitage’s fork and hold up a chunk of his chapati wrapped around some chana daal in exchange. So what if his thumb touched Armitage’s lip or if a tooth grazed his fingertip. Armitage took Ben’s hand in his and licked sauce off his forefinger. He tore another piece of chapatti and handed it to Ben. Ben scooped up more daal, getting some on his fingers deliberately, and held it up to Armitage’s lips. Armitage ate then licked and sucked Ben’s fingers clean.

Ben moved the tray to the floor and cupped Armitage’s face in his hand, leaned in and kissed him. It started as a tentative brush of closed lips, motion repeated with lips parted and soft tongues sweeping across each other. Ben let Armitage push him back into the sofa and straddle his thighs, hands in his hair and kisses harder, needier. He slipped his hands under Armitage’s shirt and stroked his back. Armitage broke off and rested his forehead against Ben’s.  
“Fuck, Ben, don’t tease me tonight. Tell me now, where’s this going?”  
Ben tried to focus on Armitage’s face but couldn’t. He closed his eyes and chased for another kiss. “I don’t know yet.” He sighed and shook his head. “I won’t be your secret. I won’t be kept. I won’t make any promises.”  
Armitage’s giggle bubbled up and he grinned. “I only meant,” he said, “are we going to have sex tonight. I’m not making any long term plans for my private life.”  
Ben’s reply was to stand up with Armitage’s legs wrapped around his waist and carry him upstairs.

Ben woke to the sound of birdsong and soft cursing. He felt the warm indentation in the mattress where Armitage had been only minutes ago and opened his eyes. Armitage was dressed in crumpled shorts and a teeshirt, with his hair in disarray.  
“Something wrong, babe?”  
“No. Don’t call me babe.”  
Ben smiled and stretched. “Sorry, kitten.”  
“That’s worse!” Armitage sighed. “I slept in. Help me find my phone.”  
“It’s here, pumpkin.” Ben found it under Armitage’s pillow.  
“Don’t call me pumpkin!” Armitage snatched the phone, flicked at the screen and sighed. “Flight’s delayed but I still have to get ready. Go back to sleep.”  
“No,” replied Ben. “How long have you got? Go shower. I’ll make coffee.”

Forty minutes later, Armitage sat in the back of a taxi with a smile on his face and warmth in his core. He opened his photo album and clicked on the thumbnail of the last photo taken: a picture of Ben, nude from the waist up, standing in profile watching the coffee machine. Ben had turned after that and smiled, asked to see the photo and allowed him to keep it in exchange for the promise of occasional texts over the next few days. He’d touched Ben’s skin, watched gooseflesh rise with each caress until Ben laughed and asked if he wanted to miss his flight.

He ruffled his hair and loosened his tie, snapped a slight frown and sent it to Ben with a brief message. Seconds later, Ben opened the message and felt his heart rate rise.

_Am I your secret?_


End file.
